


Broken Memories Alight

by Rhaized



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Before Start of Game, Family, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, Maternal Relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Slight OOC for Byleth's Personality, Those Who Slither in the Dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: In the Great Fire of Garreg Mach, Jeralt passes away, leaving Byleth to be raised and cared for by the Archbishop Lady Rhea herself. How might the child's destiny turn out differently?[Spoilers for Rhea and Byleth plots/details]
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Broken Blade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20919431) by [Nameless_Knight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nameless_Knight/pseuds/Nameless_Knight). 



**Prelude**

After setting the utility room ablaze, Jeralt ran. 

He kicked up dirt and raced as fast and as hard as he ever had, all the way up to the nursery located just beside the infirmary on the second floor. No one knew what he had done yet. News probably hadn't even broken out, as it was very late and Jeralt had run very fast. The flames were hardly noticeable when he'd left, too, which he did on purpose. Because he needed time to gather Byleth. Needed time to disappear. 

This wasn't exactly how he'd planned to leave Garreg Mach. After Byleth's birth and Maria's death, Jeralt had toyed with outright running away in the dead of night or taking Byleth out on an "errand" simply never to return. Under different circumstances that might have worked, but not with Lady Rhea as ever-vigilant and concerned with Byleth as she was. It was the strangest thing, while also disturbing. Unnatural. Unsettling. There had been a few other babies born at the monastery over the years, but never had she showed as much interest in them as she had in Byleth. Never had she kept track of their every move and development as if she herself had birthed them into the world. 

It just wasn't right, and Jeralt felt that he had no choice but to create a disaster and sneak away. 

"Captain!" 

Rustled from his thoughts, Jeralt scooped up Byleth and turned as Alois came crashing into the nursery, clad in pajamas and a sleeping cap. "Alois? What are you—" 

"There's a fire!" the younger Knight yelled, eyes wide. "Fire below! Spreading like wildfire! It might be _cursed!_ " 

Indeed it was. Jeralt wasn't proud to admit it, but he'd done his research before setting the fire. He wasn't about to get so close only to come up short. His wife had been the magic user, but he knew enough to get something started. Spells required study and practice. Jeralt had been working on them well before Maria died, and now had the courage and motivation to put his practice into use. Lady Rhea would likely be able to see it for what it was. Jeralt didn't plan to be around to see her do anything about it, though. He hadn't planned to run into anyone at all, actually, which already put a wrench into his plans. 

"Go down and gather more Knights," Jeralt ordered, thinking of something, _anything,_ to get Alois out of his way. "Meet me at the site in five minutes. I've got to take care of my kid first."

"Yes, sir, of course, sir!" And he was off, flopping away in his slippers as Jeralt headed out to the hallway. _Good riddance._

He was going to make a sharp right and head down the stairs, but he heard something down the hall that made his heart drop and his feet come to a halt. A voice. _Her voice._

In a flash, he instead turned left and hid behind a statue in the adjoining hallway. He heard her footsteps hurry to the nursery. How did she find out so soon? Jeralt had calculated he'd have at least five safe minutes until anyone noticed, but here both Alois _and_ Lady Rhea entered the scene within moments, ruining absolutely everything. Had he made it too obvious? Had he left a trace of something? 

_"Where is she?!"_

The shriek echoed across the chambers of the hallway, enough to alert every single person on the second floor. Jeralt heard shuffling coming from the library and the infirmary. He shrank back behind the statue, stilling his breathing as they rushed by. For the first time, Jeralt was entirely thankful that Byleth never cried and hardly made any sound at all as they hid there. She was the perfect stowaway, quiet and unassuming. 

Now, this did complicate things. Everyone was crowded around the nursery, attempting to comfort a frantic Lady Rhea. The only way to the stairs was down that main stretch, right in their way. And Jeralt knew that Lady Rhea would _never_ let Byleth out of her sight again if he showed himself and approached them. His only choice was to run the other way, to the meeting room around the other corner. It was out of sight, and he had to either hide out there or figure out another way to exit the sealed castle. 

So he chose to wait in the meeting room, where no one would be as they fought a cursed fire steadily spreading from a first floor utility closet. The fumes, cursed as they were, spread throughout the building. All the way up to the second floor, in fact, where Jeralt was…directly above. 

"Oh, no," he groaned, coughing as smoke filled his lungs and he struggled to make his way to the door. "Oh, please no."

The smoke had caught up to him. It must have been piling within the cracks of the floor as he'd stood there, rocking Byleth and trying to plan their next move. The trademark of this magic smoke was it stealthy approach. It was overwhelming, this sensation capturing his lungs. It burned. Tightened his chest. Made it hard to breathe and to even move. 

_Damn it!_

And with that Jeralt fell onto his back, huddling Byleth to his chest to protect the girl from the smoke all around them. _Just a little rest,_ he told himself, coughing and sputtering while holding his daughter tight. He tucked her blanket over her face, hoping that would be enough to spare her. _Then I'll get up and run toward the forest._

He'd take her out of the monastery, out of the Church's clutch. Away from Rhea. Away from the Knights. Away from the world and the life that suffocated them more than any smoke could. 

But one moment of rest turned into two, and then five, and then fifteen. And then Jeralt didn't move at all, his hand relaxing around Byleth's back and falling to lay unceremoniously on the floor around her. The baby didn't even move. Or cry. Or anything. 

It was exactly two minutes later when Lady Rhea found them, running from room to room looking for the child who never cries and never laughs. It was fate, perhaps, that led her to the meeting room. And it was instinct that caused her to pause by Jeralt's crumpled body, bending down to look where his body was bent. Sure enough, there within his arms was the child, blue eyes staring up at Rhea as she gave out a cough and wiggled about. 

"I've found you," Rhea whispered, taking the girl into her own arms and gripping her tightly. The baby was wheezing and breathing heavily. From the fire. From polluted little lungs. Rhea put a hand on the girl's chest and felt her white magic radiate through to her, clearing up all problems at once. "Oh, dear one," she crooned, turning away from Jeralt and moving swiftly toward the stairs, holding Byleth to her chest. "My heart is so happy to have found you. I don't know _what_ I'd do if I ever lost you. Sleep now, for you are safe. You're going to be safe. You'll always be safe with me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reminder: spoilers for Rhea plot lines. Also, due to this AU change, Byleth's personality will present itself a bit differently here. Just FYI.

**Part 1: Motherhood**

Rhea had never been a mother. At least not a mother in the _human_ understanding of the concept. She'd taken in orphans and loners to live and work at the monastery and she'd lent her blood to those desperately in need and of worth, but she'd never taken someone in to personally raise and care for. She had created life (in the loosest sense of the word), but she had never nurtured and cultivated it within her own womb. 

But, was that what it took to truly be someone's mother? What else was included? What did being a mother really _mean_? 

Rhea didn't know. It was something she continued to ponder as she spent her days caring for Byleth around the clock. The monastery was undergoing reconstruction after the fire and Rhea had many decisions to make and sign off on, but she had to take care of Byleth. So much of Rhea's time consisted of feeding her, washing her, entertaining her, rocking her to sleep, curing any of her ails. The nuns could have cared for her—likely would have _preferred_ to care for her since she was the child of their dearly departed friends—but Rhea wouldn't have it. She couldn't bear the thought of something going wrong or of Byleth not receiving the most devoted attention. The thought made her heart flutter with a pain that she couldn't quite explain or understand herself. 

Despite what Jeralt and Maria might have thought, Rhea wasn't completely heartless. She knew what she'd done in the past was questionable and morally gray at best, but in this case, she hadn't done anything wrong. _Save the baby,_ Maria had begged on that fateful day, her breathing labored and ragged as she lost far too much blood during the delivery. _Give it to her. Save her._

And so Rhea did. She saved an otherwise destined-to-die baby and fulfilled a dying mother's last request by ripping Maria's heart from her chest and inserting it into Byleth, saving both the child and the spirit of Sothis the Progenitor God. How could that be an entirely selfish act? Rhea benefited from it at the same time and in a different way, but that didn't negate the goodness of the act. It didn't make her out to be the monster she knew Jeralt had started to see in her. And here she was, sacrificing her duty to look after the baby herself. 

It was tender, caring for a child. There was something so innocent about the way babies looked up at those caring for them, grabbing their fingers and curling into the crook of their necks. As if there was nothing or no one more dear to them. That was easy enough to see with the babies Rhea saw during her Archbishop duties, but it was different as she cared for Byleth day in and day out with the understanding that she would be doing so for the foreseeable future. Rhea felt a deep sense of commitment and responsibility that she'd never felt before. 

But, at the same time, this baby was her mother. The Crest of Flames pulsed through her veins and kept her body alive. How hard, to choose between them and to view them at once yet separately. Who was it that she was _really_ seeing? How was she supposed to go along with this and suss out all of these distinctions? 

Rhea didn't know. There was so much she simply didn't know, it seemed. She couldn't think about that just yet. She knew she couldn't do this alone, however, and thus brought Seteth back over to the monastery, along with Flayn. 

"Who is this child?" Seteth had asked when she'd first shown her to him, beaming with pride. "Why do you care so deeply for her? And why are you taking her on as your own personal charge?" 

"She's special," Rhea answered, vaguely, as she gazed down at Byleth. Her little eyelashes fluttered as she fought against sleep. "And we must do all we can to protect her and raise her well."

Seteth had a daughter. He knew what it felt like to love someone more than he could possibly describe and to place their existence above his very own. Rhea had seen him do so time and time again as they moved around the world shrouded in secrecy and evasion. Yet he looked at Rhea suspiciously as she stood there rocking baby Byleth to sleep, shushing her and humming so faintly only she and Byleth could hear:

_In time's flow_

_See the glow_

_Of flames ever burning bright_

He wouldn’t understand. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t understand. It only mattered that he was here, and that Flayn was here, and that, through Byleth, _mother_ was here, too. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The years went by as quickly as they did slowly. Time was strange when a person had an abundance of it. Rhea had lived many years as many different people across many different places. The lifespan of humans was so short that she hardly noticed them sometimes. But with Byleth, it was different. Each small milestone was something to celebrate and to document. 

Rhea raised her as best she thought a human should be raised. She read the books and showered the child with love, affection, and patience. And a wealth of attention. Each moment was special. Byleth’s first word, at 10 months: Rhea. Her first steps, at the age of 11 months. Her first full phrase, at 12 months: I do. Her first birthday, which garnered a special feast in the dining hall for all to partake in as well as a private party afterwards thrown by Flayn with cake and presents. Rhea cherished every moment while feeling herself anxiously awaiting a development she didn't know would even happen. 

It was strange, as well, to see Byleth's personality develop. Admittedly, Rhea didn't know what to expect with the Crest of Flames fueling Byleth's body. She'd never placed the stone inside a child born naturally and not of her own creation. Would she have a personality of her own, inherited from her human father and her genetically-modified mother? Would she be like, dare Rhea breathe it, Sothis herself? Gracious and giving while cheeky and stern? How much influence did human DNA have? Rhea didn't know which she wanted most, and which she was actually seeing as the child grew older and started developing mannerisms and tendencies. 

Motherhood wasn’t all happy and peace all the time, however.

Byleth developed a very serious infection when she was two years old. It was unlike anything Rhea or the monastery physician had ever seen. She had a fever and was in a cold sweat, but the toddler gave no indication that she was in pain. Her chest was also congested and her breathing wheezy, but again, no signs of protest from the child.

“I don’t understand it,” the doctor exclaimed, checking Byleth again. The child obediently stared back and opened her mouth when instructed, just as she always did. Never one to cry or to wail or to throw a tantrum. “It’s like she doesn’t even _feel_ it.”

Rhea wondered… It was complicated business, inserting crest stones into humans. Historically, Rhea didn’t mess too much with human anatomy while trying to bring back her mother. She used her magic and her own medical knowledge to create human vessels that were genetic reincarnations of her mother, which was safer and something Rhea could more easily condone. But Byleth wasn’t a mere vessel that was genetically crafted. She was a living, breathing human conceived and birthed naturally by two different people with two very different genetic makeups. Might the Crest of Flames prevent her from feeling her own body’s threats and interfere with treatment? Might it be making everything go terribly wrong?

Rhea took the child back to their room on the third floor and held her tight, rocking her back and forth and feeling the heat literally radiate from the girl’s body. She was so _hot._ Her fever was off the charts and Rhea felt the sweat seep through her clothing. But Byleth simply closed her eyes and placed her head against Rhea’s chest, leaning into her movements. She coughed every now and then, as a body does when faced with a respiratory infection, but other than that she was silent.

“Oh, Byleth,” Rhea whispered, finding herself panicked in a situation opposite of most mothers who try desperately to calm screaming children who don’t feel well. “Please be alright. Please allow your body to fight this off.”

For some reason, this felt different. When the other vessels had failed in one way or another, it had been disappointing but no true concern or anguish. But with Byleth… She _had_ to make it through. Through the hard times as well as the good, Rhea would ensure that Byleth would make it through. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

There came a time for Rhea where shirking her duties became harder and harder to uphold. The Church of Seiros had many things to attend to, including threats from a particularly concerning sect of the Western Church. Rhea couldn't sit inside her room all day and play mother when she had an entire nation of people depending on her. As much as Byleth needed her and, increasingly, as Rhea needed Byleth, there was just too much to keep up with. 

When Byleth was four years old, Rhea had to leave the monastery for official business in the Kingdom, which would be the first time during Byleth’s conscious memory that the two of them would be separated.

"Why do you have to go?" Byleth asked as Rhea had told her of her departure. She ran up to Rhea and threw her arms around her legs, gazing up at her intensely. The girl had grown more affectionate, thanks to Rhea's coddling. She still didn’t cry and express her pain in the way most human children did, but she was becoming more and more personable around people. And at this moment, she also exhibited what seemed to be attachment. 

"I have to go to the Kingdom now," Rhea said softly, bending to caress the girl's hair as she gently peeled her off of her. 

“Why?”

It was complicated. King Lambert was set on subjugating the peninsula of Sreng. The wasteland’s clans had been infiltrating Faerghus for several hundred years now, which Rhea hadn’t paid much attention to before but now had to with Lambert’s insistence on putting an end to the invasions. Like her mother, Rhea wanted peace above all things. She strived to strike a balance between the feuding humans and set an apt example for them through the Church, but it was hard and humans were stubborn. And Rhea found herself pressed from time-to-time to intervene more directly in their affairs.

“To help them avoid a war,” she answered truthfully. Perhaps it wasn’t best to be so honest with children about grave and serious topics, but Byleth wasn’t like that. She’d always been thoughtful and smart, and, above all, harboring the crest stone of the Goddess herself.

"Be good for Uncle Seteth now,” Rhea proceeded, kissing Byleth’s head and heading toward the door. “He will take good care of you."

"Dont let anything happen to her," Rhea breathed to him as she met him the entrance hall, eyes round and voice sharp.

"You know I won't," he replied, as firm and stoic as always since his position as right-hand to the archbishop. "She's family, after all." There was something hidden in his tone that Rhea couldn’t quite decipher, but she was pressed for time and thus nodded before heading out to meet her knights.

And so Rhea went, off to the Kingdom to help the King and profess peace. All the while, she thought of Byleth, and how she was doing and if anything important regarding her… _situation_ would occur in Rhea's absence. And she thought of Byleth again a few months later as she headed to the Empire to deal with the Western Church, resisting the urge to bring the child with her as a long trek westward was no place for a little girl.

This would be harder than Rhea thought, as the two became closer and Rhea began to see first hand how the world of peace her mother had envisioned was proving further and further away from reality. 

**Author's Note:**

> After playing the game for several hundred hours now and reading through Nameless_Knight's fic Broken Blade, I was inspired to start a story where Byleth stays with Rhea at Garreg Mach. I wondered how Byleth might have turned out if Rhea had raised them, and how the plot could have been furthered/adapted due to this. I've always been interested in their dynamic and their, ahem, complicated relationship.
> 
> Anyway, here is the prelude to start us off, and I aim to update soon! I hope you like it.


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